"There are only a few people who live there, and they are principally wood-cutters," continued the skipper. "But they are true as steel, and you can trust them with your life. I have bought wood of them for years and know them like a book. I will go ashore with you and give you a good send-off. We shall get there about ten o'clock to-night." Rodney opened his lips to thank the captain for his kindness, but he was gone. The old steamboat-man sympathized with the South, and Captain Howard and his friends had found it out, and induced him to do what he could to help Rodney escape the expectant Yankee cotton-factor at St. Louis. The boy laughed aloud when he thought how astonished and angry Tom Randolph would be to learn that he had wasted time and telegrams to no purpose. He passed the rest of the day in company with Captain Howard and his friends, nearly all of whom held some position of trust under the new government, and at nine o'clock, in obedience to a significant wink and nod from the skipper, he went below and put the saddle and bridle on his horse. Just then the whistle sounded for Cedar Bluff landing, and some of the passengers came down to bid him good-by and see him safely ashore. "A boy with your ability and pluck ought to make his mark in the service, and I wish I could keep track of you," said Captain Howard, giving Rodney's hand a cordial shake. "But I shall most likely be ordered East, hundreds of miles away from here, and possibly I may never hear of you again; but I shall often think of you. Good-by, and good luck." This was the way in which all his new friends took leave of him, and if good wishes were all that were needed to bring him safely through, Rodney would have had no fears of the future. When the _Mollie Able's_ bow touched the bank and a line had been thrown out, a gang-plank was shoved ashore, and the skipper came down from the hurricane deck to give his passenger a "send-off." The blazing torch, which one of the deck-hands had placed in the steamer's bow, threw a flickering light upon half a dozen long-haired, roughly dressed men who had been brought to the bank by the sound of the whistle, and who gazed in surprise when they saw a stout negro coming off with Rodney's trunk on his shoulder, followed by Rodney himself, who was leading the roan colt. It wasn't often that a passenger was landed in that out-of-the-way place. "Set the trunk down anywhere, Sam, and go aboard. A word with you, Jeff," said the _Mollie Able's_ captain, beckoning to the tallest and roughest looking man in the party. "Where's Price?" "Dunno. Jeff Thompson has just been round behind the Cape pulling up the railroad, but some of the Yankee critter-fellers went out there and run him off," replied the long-haired Missourian. "Last I heared of Price he was down about the Arkansas line."